Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 M/f, inc, best, rough, rom





   Danielle - everybody calls her Danny - has done some very dirty things,
but she's never been with a man.  Her stepfather doesn't know about her
relationship with Bert, their black lab, but he can tell that the
thirteen-year-old needs some loving.  Danny doesn't like her daddy, but she
does have an interest in older men...  she's just worried that no one will
like her because she has braces and she's totally flat.











   D A N I E L L E

   Written by Silvio Stoker











   "What's wrong with you?" Vince's voice was a low growl.



   "Look at your father when you're spoken to," Veronica said icily.



   Danielle fought back tears.  He wasn't her father.  Veronica had married
Vince four years before, when Danny was nine.  Her real dad had disappeared
when she was seven, but Danny still missed him.



   "Eat your food," Bob growled.



   Danny forced the meat loaf down, excused herself and went to the
bathroom.  Vince didn't touch her sexually, but he spanked her sometimes -
and the week before he'd pulled her panties down when he did it, exposing
her bony little butt.  She didn't even know what she'd done wrong - and she
knew that he wanted to see her, her ass, but she couldn't think about that.
It made her crazy, and she couldn't tell her mom.  Danny turned on the tap
to mask the noise, knelt in front of the toilet and stuck her finger down
her throat, leaning over the bowl.  It was awful, but she felt better
afterwards - empty.  She'd been doing it for about six months, since she
turned thirteen, sometimes because her stepfather forced her to finish her
food and sometimes because she got hungry and binged.  Breathing hard, she
got to her feet and flushed the toilet, then brushed her teeth for a long
time, looking at herself in the mirror.  She was beautiful, but she didn't
think so.  Her braces would be coming off in about a month, and without her
glasses she had a classically lovely face, big gray eyes and high
cheekbones, silken light brown hair.  Her high forehead was damp with
sweat, and she had a bitter but inviting smell.  Danny had reached menarche
a month before her thirteenth birthday, but the bulimia had thrown off her
menstrual cycle - she hadn't bled for a couple of months.  She was tall for
her age, angular and leggy, with long fingers and toes and a swanlike neck.
Slightly awkward, Danny was a bookworm - she knew that she was sick, too,
and she'd read a lot of books about eating disorders.  Sometimes it seemed
like the studies had nothing to do with her, though - she thought of
herself as different and lived in a dream world.  Lately she didn't wear
her glasses at home, except when she was doing her homework.  She thought
of herself as ugly, and she did dirty things - her young body was already
riddled with guilt.  She bathed twice a day and douched her virgin vagina
every morning - she'd never even kissed a boy, but she'd been masturbating
for as long as she could remember.  Until she was ten or eleven she hadn't
had bad thoughts, diddling herself - it just felt good.  She knew it was
wrong - she went to a Catholic school - and once her mother had caught her
(she didn't really see; Danny was under the covers) and told her that she'd
get sick - and now she was sick.  It wasn't just the bulimia - Danny had
done a disgusting thing.  A week before her thirteenth birthday, Danny had
met a man at the library.  They hadn't done anything - they'd just talked -
but Danny knew that the man desired her.  He was in his late thirties or
early forties, and he wasn't a creep or anything - he was handsome, and he
said sweet things to her.  Boys didn't like her because she was four-eyed
and flat and had braces - and Danny liked listening to the man.  She lied
about her age, even - she was tall, even if she didn't have titties.  She
said she was in high school.  The man asked her if she had a boyfriend and
stuff.  She'd dress up to go to the library - he said she had nice legs. 
Danny would think about him all day - he wore a wedding ring, but Danny
imagined that he fell in love with her and asked her to run away with
him... and she thought about him at night, too, about him telling her that
he loved her.  Danny was a dirty girl - she'd soaked her panties several
times, when men stared at her, and sometimes when she was really aroused
her anus would get excited, too.  She was ashamed of her moisture,
especially because the guys who made her drool were usually older,
middle-aged.  Danny didn't know about anal sex, but a girl at school had
told her about sucking - the idea was revolting at first, but she started
to fantasize about it.  She'd seen her stepfather's penis once - it hadn't
been hard, but another time she'd seen the bulge in his pants, after he
spanked her.  It was so big - she'd never put more than one finger in her
pussy, and even that had hurt, the fingernail...  she played with a candle
sometimes, but she never put it in her cunt.  She sucked it - and one night
after she went poop, she dipped her toothbrush in Vaseline and slid it into
her rectum.  Danny had no idea that anyone would want to rape her in there,
but men stared at her butt sometimes.  The man in the library told her that
she was sexy.  She blushed, and he touched her for the first time - her
hair.  Danny bit her lip, petrified.  She didn't go to the library the next
day - she was frightened, and she knew that letting him say those things
was a sin.  Still, she thought she was in love with him - it was
summertime, and she was lonely.  When she saw him again, between the
history shelves, he didn't try to touch her - and she wanted him to.  Her
nipples were hard, and when she got home she used the toothbrush in her
puberty tube for the first time, sucking the candle.  She came again and
again, gushing.  Danny burned dinner that night, and her stepfather spanked
her.  He didn't take her panties off then, but it was still humiliating,
besides being painful.  She went to her room with her dog - a black lab
named Bert - and after her mother and Vince were asleep, she undressed and
used her fingers.  Bert stared at her, lying on the floor beside the bed.
She loved her dog, but she'd never had those thoughts before.  Danny petted
him and rubbed his belly...  and then she touched his balls.  She felt
nauseous, but they were so similar to a man's, and Danny was horny. 
Trembling, she kissed the dog's testicles, tentatively running her tongue
along the warm flesh - she whimpered when his penis appeared, and then she
was sucking him.  She came without touching herself, taking Bert's penis
deep into her wet little mouth.  She felt dizzy, caressing the animal's
belly, drooling - the dog ejaculated, and Danny choked on the flood of
semen, spitting, and burst into tears.



   She expected a thunderbolt - the gates of hell swung open inside her,
swallowing, curled up on the carpeted floor, naked, quivering
uncontrollably.  She didn't do it again until school started - her mother
and stepfather drove to Mississippi one weekend and left her alone.  Danny
got drunk on Vince's whiskey, mixing it with milk.  She'd let the man in
the library touch her more - her mouth, and he'd fondled her, feeling her
flat chest through her blouse, fingering her nipples.  She couldn't
breathe. He didn't kiss her, but he caressed her ass, and one evening he'd
slid his hand under her skirt.  She'd clenched her cheeks, closing her eyes
and digging her fingers into her palms - he petted her through her panties,
not her pussy but her bottom, breathing in her ear.  Danny almost died when
he touched her bare skin, stroking her thigh where it disappeared into the
soft cotton, the curve of her buttock, the crease.  He even slipped a
finger under the fabric for a second.  Her anus tightened, and he told her
that she had a beautiful butt.  His voice was a hoarse whisper - she didn't
even know his name.  He said it was Smith, but Danny was a bright girl. 
Mr. Smith.  The librarian had passed the history section, and the man went
away - but the librarian came back, suspicious.  Mr.  Smith never came to
the library again.  Danny went there almost every evening, but he'd
disappeared.  In September, Vince and her mother left her home alone and
went to Biloxi for a weekend of gambling.  Danny had stolen her
stepfather's whiskey before.  She got drunk and stripped in front of the
full-length mirror at the end of the hall.  Her ribs showed, and her
nipples and genitals were raw.  Her creamy complexion was ashen, but she
was a very attractive girl - her shoulder-length hair was pinned back,
accentuating her aristocratic face, her cool gray eyes and high forehead.
She'd seen a striptease in a movie and imitated the actress at first, then
frigged herself.  She got off, gasping, and slumped to the floor.  Bert
trotted in.  Danny did it again, masturbating her rectum with her middle
finger and licking the dog's member, sucking it, mewling when the lab
spewed into her mouth.



   Danielle Williams was withdrawn.  She got straight A's, but she didn't
have any friends and didn't participate in any extracurricular activities.
She'd started seventh grade, and she had a lot of homework, but it was a
breeze - she was way beyond the level of the rest of the class.  The
thirteen-year-old still went to the library every day after school, walking
along Napoleon Avenue, awkward, her shoulders hunched, unspeakably lonely.
Sometimes she went to the library on St.  Charles, or took the streetcar to
the Poydras and walked to the main one.  In October she began to wander
around the French Quarter - she told her parents that she was going to the
library, but she really wandered around looking at all the strange-looking
people, the Quarter rats - especially the girls.  New Orleans was still
insufferably hot, and Danny wore cotton dresses.  They weren't meant to be
sexy, but they were revealing - she didn't think she was pretty, but she
knew that parts of her were.  Her feet, for example, with high arches and
long, straight toes, milky with pale pink nails, carefully clipped.  Her
legs were adolescent, devoid of curves, coltish.  She'd given up on growing
breasts - they were flatter than pancakes, with salmon pink nipples the
size of nickels.  Her collarbone was incredibly lovely, like her slender
arms and nervous hands, her gorgeous eyes hidden behind thick glasses. 
Danny had wide hips and a gap between her girlish legs.  She shied away
from others - she stared at them furtively and fled when they noticed.  She
was awed by some of the teenagers she saw in the Quarter - the ones who
were obviously dirty.  In three years she'd be sixteen, and she thought a
lot about what would become of her - she didn't think anyone would ask her
out, and she wouldn't know what to do on a date.  She dreamt about getting
married - she liked to cook, and she even liked doing laundry.  Usually she
imagined the man in the library as her husband.  She'd fantasize about
making him dinner and him saying how good it was - he'd tell her that he
loved her, and Danny would ask her if he needed anything else, looking
away, and he'd say 'c'mere' and she'd put it in her mouth, kneeling between
his legs.  He'd stroke her hair and come, and when she was doing the dishes
he'd come up behind her and lift her dress.  Danny didn't think about him
putting it in her poophole - she still didn't know men did that - but he'd
touch her like he had in the library, only he'd pull her panties down and
stick it in her cunt.  She knew it would hurt - she'd tried two fingers by
then, stretching her hymen - but Danny was his wife and did whatever he
said.



   Vince never told her that her cooking was good - he punished her when it
was bad or when she experimented.  She hated him, and she knew she
shouldn't, and when he spanked her it was like he was punishing her for all
the horrible things she'd thought and done.  She knew that she gave him a
hard-on, too - it made her feel small, and she tried not to look at his
tented pants, but he made her slimy sometimes, hitting her.  He'd slap her
and tell her to go to her room - it was always when her mother wasn't home
- and he'd come in and make her lift her skirt or drop her pants.  She'd be
in bed, bawling.  Vince could tell that there was something wrong with the
girl - it was written in her face and in the way she carried herself.  Her
mother was utterly submissive.  He never hurt Veronica intentionally, but
he dry holed her.  He hadn't been very attracted to young girls until Danny
began to grow up - the kid was weird, and a couple of times he'd caught her
staring at his cock.  She walked around in her underwear, too.  At first he
thought it was an accident, but it always happened when his wife wasn't
home.  Once, when he spanked her really hard, Danny wet herself.  He almost
came in his pants.  She was so helpless - she never struggled, and several
times he'd noticed the telltale smell of arousal during a spanking - twice
he'd even seen a stain.  Her scent was slightly acrid, and her bed stank if
she hadn't changed the sheets for a while.  Vince wondered how far he could
go - he was almost scared of her.  She was like a cripple.  One Saturday in
December, when Veronica had gone to visit her sister in Baton Rouge, Vince
got drunk and told Danny to go to her room.  She hadn't done anything
wrong. The girl obeyed, lying on her belly and sobbing.  He told her to
lift her dress - she was wearing white cotton panties, her cheeks clenched.
He waited for her to relax a little, watching her delectable buttocks shift
under the thin fabric.  Danny whimpered, embarrassed - and her stepfather
yanked her panties down for the first time.  She was unbelievably
beautiful, squirming and screaming into the pillow.  He spanked her until
she squirted pee, then went to the bathroom to jerk off.



   "What's wrong with you?" Vince growled.  It was a few days after
Christmas.  The furnace kicked in.



   "Look at your father when you're spoken to," Veronica said, staring at
her meat loaf.



   Danny forced herself to eat the meat loaf, excused herself, and went to
the bathroom to puke.  They'd eaten an early supper, and the library was
still open.  She changed into jeans, a T-shirt and a soft gray sweater that
set off her eyes, found her suede jacket and left the house.  She always
felt light-headed after puking.  He hadn't touched her for a week, but
Danny couldn't stop thinking about how awful it had felt - she'd lain in
the soiled bed afterwards, bawling, her panties down around her thighs, her
skinny butt scarlet, slime seeping from her little fuck tube.



   The library was about to close.  Denied her refuge, Danny crossed the
street and went into the magazine store she sometimes bought the paper at.
She was the only customer, and the black man behind the customer ignored
her, reading _Motor Trend_.  Danny leafed through the fashion magazines and
looked around.  The second aisle had an adult section.  The man had his
back to her.  Danny had never looked at the dirty magazines - she glanced
at the covers peeking out above the rack, the airbrushed eyes and forbidden
words.  Impulsively, she grabbed one and slid it under her jacket, her
heart pounding.  She slipped outside, terrified, and walked towards St. 
Charles - it was dusk, and the live oaks along Napoleon looked spooky. 
Danny got home and went straight to her room.  Her stepfather was watching
TV, and her mom was in the bedroom reading.  Danny shut the door and took
out the magazine, took off her jacket and lay down in bed, ready to slip
the thing under the pillow if she heard her parents' footfalls in the hall.
They were supposed to be teenagers, but most of the models looked older to
her - she took it all in, the filthy language and unbelievably lewd poses,
pussy...  pussy and ass.  A lot of the women were dressed like little
girls, in white socks and stuff, and most of them showed off their tushes
as much as their muffs - Danny didn't understand until she started reading.
She skimmed a story that described it - a teenager named Brandi begged her
boyfriend to fuck her in the butt.  Breathless, Danny read the captions to
the pictures - one of the women looked really young, a slender redhead with
small breasts, bald.  She was eighteen, it said, and she wanted it in the
ass.  Her name was Jane, and in one of the shots her anus was open a little
- she was beautiful, barefoot, and she sucked her toes, staring at the
camera, seductive.  She played with her titties, too, her eyes closed, and
then there were pictures of two girls together, a brunette and a blonde. 
Danny had thought about girls before, staring at the kids in the Quarter.
She knew what a lezzy was and she was ashamed of those desires - but the
magazine was for men, wasn't it?  And it looked exciting, the way they
touched each other - in one picture, the blonde was bent over, and the
brunette's tongue was aimed at her bunghole.  It wasn't touching the
dilated opening, but looked like it would, long and wet...  Danny started
to squirm, fascinated - on page after page, pretty young women posed in
ways that drew attention to that shameful place.  They displayed their
snatches, but mostly they were offering the other thing, and Danny was so
needy there.  The words turned her on, too - 'tight twat', 'tiny tits'...
those were things she had, and she wanted it in the ass, like Jane.  The
redhead was her favorite - Jane had the prettiest anus, a pale pink opening
surrounded by rosy skin, her skinny butt alabaster, the bung obviously
available, inviting.  Danny studied the ads at the back of the magazine -
the pictures were tiny, but there were more surprises: 'little girls',
'Lolitas', 'my little sister'...  and there were ads about girls with their
dogs, too, the pictures blacked out.  _Dogs_.  Danny couldn't believe what
she'd found.



   School started again, and Danielle lost focus - she looked at the
magazine every day, until she'd memorized every pose Jane took.  She hid it
under the mattress, and sometimes after her mother and stepfather had gone
to sleep she'd take it to the bathroom.  Danny would lubricate the candle
and work it into her colon, whimpering.  Sometimes she thought about Vince
or the man in the library, but mostly she pretended to be Jane, slowly
sliding the taper in and out of her rectum and rubbing her clit.  It felt
terrific, and she slid it really deep, gasping when she got off.  Her
mother went to Baton Rouge again on the second weekend in January.  Danny
made lunch for Vince - he was drinking beer, and in the afternoon he hit
the whiskey.  Dread knotted her stomach.  He'd been staring at her all day
- she'd looked away, but she'd put on her paisley dress.  It was the
skimpiest thing she owned, and she knew that he could see up it when she
shifted on the couch.  She pretended to do her homework, moving to the
floor.  Vince sat in the La-Z-Boy, watching her - what was wrong with her?
She lay on her belly, and despite the cold she was dressed indecently,
squirming.  He sipped his Scotch, watching her wiggle.  Danny felt like
crying, but part of her was desperate for attention - even that kind, even
hurt.  Did Jane have a daddy?  Danny tried to imagine the redhead at
thirteen...  and suddenly her stepfather was barking at her.



   "Get over here," Vince said.  Trembling, she stood up and stared at the
cream-colored carpeting, facing him.  Her feet were paler than the pile,
and her knees felt like water.  "Look at me when I talk to you." She bit
her lip and raised her big gray eyes.  She wasn't wearing her glasses.  Her
hair was loose, silken.  "What do you think you're doing?"



   What was she doing?  She wasn't sure.  She couldn't breathe.  "Nothing,"
she said softly.



   "Go to your room," he growled.  Danny wished that she'd left for the
library after lunch - she wished that she'd never been born.  She lay face
down on the bed, her muscles in knots.  The command came to lift her dress.
Sobbing, Danny obeyed.  His slurred his speech - he ordered her to take off
her panty.  "All the way off." He watched her try to do it without letting
him see - she was clumsy, crying.  "Take your dress off, too," he hissed.
Shaking, Danny did as she was told.  She expected to be spanked, but
instead he spread her legs.  She was still on her belly, completely naked.
She resisted at first, howling, but he was so strong - she was a weakling,
her milky skin damp with fear.  Vince fingered her vagina - the entrance to
her rectum was raw, but Vince figured she had a rash or something.  Dying
of shame, Danny lost control of her bladder.  He slapped her several times,
then flipped her over and pinned her arms behind her back.  She was
panting, her face wet with tears and snot.  He teased her nipples, taking
them between his fingers, then took out his cock.  "Open your mouth," he
whispered.  "I want you to suck me, Danny." She couldn't stop crying - she
was suffocating.  It tasted like urine.  He wrapped her fingers around the
shaft.  She was submissive like her mother, sucking it.  Vince squeezed her
right nipple and forced her to take it deeper.  Danny had practiced with
the candle, but her stepfather was thicker and kept thrusting.  He rubbed
her between the legs, roughly, raping her mouth.  She felt the semen surge
through his rod and then it flooded her, her head trapped by his hand.  He
rocked back and forth, emptying his balls.  Come came out of her nose. 
Vince pulled out and left her there, choking.  Danny hugged the pillow and
wept.  She didn't hear him come back - he grabbed her legs.  She jerked,
snorting.  He didn't say anything, dipping his fingers in Vaseline and
lubricating her anus, greasing his penis.  She felt a burning pain - and
then unspeakable pleasure mixed with her misery.  Moaning in agony, Danny
went rigid as the huge cock filled her colon.  He shoved it in slowly, slid
out, and slammed her.  Gripping her ankles, Vince reamed the girl for what
seemed to her like forever, fast and hard, forcing his eight-inch prick
into her perverted rectum until Danny felt nothing but the frantic rhythm,
frothing at the mouth.  He finally came, his cock in her intestine to the
hilt.  Then he was gone.



   Danny thought she was dead except for the pain.  It hurt deep inside,
and he'd torn her sphincter.  It felt like he was still inside her - she
thought of suicide, but first she had to get out of bed, and by the time
she did she could only think of running away.  Weeping, Danny staggered to
the bathroom.  She almost passed out when she went poop, it was so painful.
She crawled into the tub and cried at the sting of the tepid water,
bleeding.  She had nowhere to run to - and Danny knew what happened to
pretty girls who ran away.  And anyway she had only herself to blame.



   Vince didn't love her.  He'd never loved her - she wasn't his daughter -
and for a while her mouth and ass satisfied him.  The main thing was raping
her for the first time, ruining her.  He wanted to fuck her in front, too,
but that could wait - he didn't want to get her pregnant.  Danny's mother
didn't say anything - she knew, but she knew that her daughter deserved it,
too.  Veronica had been molested by her uncle when she was in puberty, and
she still blamed herself - she'd met Danny's father when she was sixteen
and working at McDonald's, and she'd never found herself.  Danny reminded
her of herself.  Danny was a mess - Vince used her mouth every other night
or so, and whenever her mother was away he violated her anally.  The pain
diminished - but the degradation didn't.  Part of her wanted him to love
her - she pretended to be Jane, bending over and bucking against his big
cock, constipated, crying.  She was constipated all the time, her wounded
anus surrounded by a nasty bruise.  Danny didn't masturbate anymore.  She
was still seductive - she tried to hide her torment, but her corruption was
painfully obvious.  A couple of the teachers at school tried to talk to
her, but Danny denied everything.  In May, Miss Gerber called her mother
and suggested that the girl be sent to a psychiatrist.  Veronica told Vince
- he spanked her, but he stopped forcing her into sex except to make her
suck him now and then.  Summer came, and Danny was left to her wanderings.



   She was wearing her paisley dress that day - it was the second week of
July and almost a hundred degrees, her slender shoulders smeared with sun
block, her sexy feet in white cotton socks, bare-legged.  Her braces had
come out, but she still wore glasses.  She was a week shy of her fourteenth
birthday.  Danny was scared of men, but her mouth would water sometimes -
she ran away if anyone tried to approach her, but sometimes she'd see
scenes that still turned her on: pretty little girls playing in the park,
slutty adolescents trying to pick up middle-aged men in the Quarter.  Danny
had started sucking her dog's dick again - she liked it when her stepfather
made her suck him, too.  He didn't fuck her face anymore - he'd get drunk
and lie back and let her lick his asshole and balls and blow him.  She went
into a trance, tonguing his shitter and taking the head of his cock into
her throat, stroking and squeezing it until he came, swallowing.  "Suck
your daddy, Danny...  suck it..." She felt empty, but sometimes he'd slip
his middle finger into her butt, masturbating her.  A week or so would go
by without sex, and Danny would try not to think about it - she read a lot
and pretended to be normal, but by the time July came she was sucking Bert
and frigging in the bathroom again, in anguish.  Was Jane like that?  Did
Jane play with candles?  Once Danny did it with a cucumber, lubricating it
and stuffing it into her rectum, reaching orgasm.  She looked sick, and she
walked like a call girl, the paisley dress hugging her haunches, hungry. 
She was on the Moonwalk when she saw him.  The a warm breeze was blowing
from the muddy Mississippi.  The man from the library.



   He was with his family.  His wife looked dumpy - but his daughter was a
dream.  She wore her honey-colored hair in long braids, and her bright blue
eyes were brimming with misery.  Danny knew right away that Mr.  Smith
molested her.  She was ten or eleven years old, and Danny could picture her
naked, her daddy's penis in her pretty little mouth...  if Danny hadn't
been staring, she would have noticed the man who sat down beside her. 
She'd seen him before - he'd stared at her in Jackson Square - and she'd
always run away.  He was maybe fifty, slim, with silver hair and warm eyes
the color of dark chocolate, wearing a gray linen suit.  Mr.  Smith didn't
notice her - and suddenly the man beside her was telling her how pretty she
was.  Danny wanted to run, but she was petrified.  She felt like she was
suffocating, but her pussy was slippery and her nipples stiffened against
the paisley dress.  He was smiling at her.  He asked her where she lived -
Danny told him, avoiding his gaze, and then he asked her if he could take
her to lunch.  She nodded.



   They went to an outdoor café in the French Market - he asked her about
school and stuff, and Danny relaxed a little.  He said his name was Mr. 
Jones - she said she was Danielle because she'd never been on a date
before, and part of her felt flattered and ladylike even though she knew
what he wanted.  She said she was sixteen.  He could have been her
grandfather, but the waitress gave her a weird look.  Danny picked at her
food, and during dessert the man suggested that she visit him at his hotel
- the Meridian.  He held her hand, walking towards Canal.  She squeezed it
- she was scared that he would hurt her...  but she liked him, and he
seemed nice.  The hotel was so fancy!  There was a huge bouquet in the
lobby - the exotic flowers must have cost several hundred dollars - and his
room was incredibly ritzy.  She felt uncomfortable - like she should do
something, do what she'd dreamt of doing for her husband, what she did for
daddy...  and then he kissed her.  She'd never been kissed before.  Vince
never kissed her or said anything nice - Danny kissed back, dizzy, and the
man slid his hand under her dress, caressing her slender thighs and the
curve of her skinny ass.  "You're not sixteen, are you," he whispered.



   "I - I'll be fourteen in a week," Danny said in a tiny voice, trembling.
He began to unbutton her dress.  She felt filthy - but she wanted him, too,
and he was so sweet, so tender.  She whimpered when he sucked on her
nipples, stroking her taut stomach and taking off her glasses and sandals
and socks.



   "Do you do this a lot, Danielle?" She grimaced, fighting back tears,
shaking her head no.  He hugged her, and Danny started to squirm, desperate
to get raped.



   "F-fuck me," she whispered, straddling him.  She could feel his cock
through the linen and cotton, her virgin twat wet and twitching, her daddy
hole dilated, eager.  He held her, then removed her dress.  Danny was
panting, wide-eyed.  Her panties were drenched with drool.  The man took
them off and got on the floor, lifting her legs and licking her gash.  The
girl squealed in orgasm - he extracted his dick and slid into her wetness,
slowly.  Danny gasped as it tore her hymen, then howled.  He couldn't
believe that the kid was a virgin.  Her vagina was abnormally small because
of her bulimia, but unnaturally needy, too, painfully tight.  She shuddered
as he shoved it deeper, stretching the stunted orifice, her sunken belly
bulging as he buried seven inches in her sick young body.  Danny was in
agony, whimpering and clawing at the couch.  He tried to be gentle, but her
fuck tube was as narrow as a ten-year-old's.  His cock was coated with
blood, and the bulb beat against her cervix when he slammed her.  She
screamed when he came, trying to wrap her legs around him.  Danny wanted
his baby.



   He slid out and helped her to the shower.  She could hardly walk, and
blood trickled down her left leg.  The man undressed and helped her wash,
holding her - Danny grasped his penis and sank to her knees to suck him. 
He stared into her worshipful eyes, then pulled her to her feet and turned
her around.  It hurt going in, her sphincter tight, and then it was heaven
- and hell, because he wasn't loving anymore, and Danny knew why.  She was
a whore, and he could do whatever he wanted.  He could tell that she'd
taken it in her shitter before - the girl gurgled and barked like a seal,
bucking mechanically, still bleeding from her slimehole.  He held her bony
hips and reamed her, then pulled out and put it in her mouth.  His eyes
blazed as the adolescent sucked his dirty dick - Danny cupped her wounded
cunt and looked up at him, licking and sucking.  She felt like a toilet. 
He grabbed his rod and jerked off, taking her by the hair and coming in her
terrified face.



   He dried her with a huge white towel and helped her get dressed. 
Clutching the hundred he'd given her, she rode the elevator to the lobby
and burst into tears.  People stared at her.  She headed for the Riverwalk,
staggering.  She found a bench near the Spanish Fountain and stared into
space, and at dusk she dragged herself home.  She was half asleep when her
stepfather got into bed with her.  She'd washed and thrown away her ruined
panties, and he didn't know she'd been raped.  Danny sucked his fingers,
whimpering, then went down on him, drooling in his shithole and stroking
his shaft, taking the familiar meat deep in her mouth, drinking his come.
He left, and she cried herself to sleep.



   Her mom gave her a new dress for her fourteenth birthday - lilac with
dark blue flowers, elegant, and Vince gave her a pair of white pantyhose.
They even got her a cake - Danny binged and made herself puke afterwards,
and in the evening she went for a walk in her new outfit, her soft feet in
patent leather pumps.  She couldn't stop thinking about the man.  She'd
fallen in love with him when he took her to lunch.  She would have done
anything for him - and he didn't want her.  He only wanted to fuck her
brains out - that's all she was good for.  That's all she'd ever been good
for.  She thought of the man in the library and his daughter - her
honey-colored hair and undoubtedly hairless cunny, her coltish legs... 
Danny thought about the two girls in the magazine she'd taken, kissing and
touching each other, trying to imagine the ten-year-old in bed.  She could
still remember the blonde's father fondling her buttocks - did he do that
to his daughter?  Or did he hurt the kid, like the man at the Meridian had
hurt Danny after he took her cherry?  She tried to picture the pretty girl
posing like Jane, displaying her bald vagina and sexy little butt.  Did her
daddy fuck her?  If he didn't, she probably played with it - her poophole.
Danny looked at the magazine again that night, and after her parents were
asleep she got her father's razor and a can of shaving cream and carefully
shaved her cunt.



   Danny got sick towards September.  She was gaining weight despite her
bulimia, and then she started to throw up without sticking her finger down
her throat.  Her mother gave her strange looks - she thought it was Vince's
- and a few days before school started, Danny's stepfather slapped her
around and asked her who she'd slept with.  Danny didn't understand at
first - he stripped her and raped her in front, really hard.  It hurt, but
not as much as the first time, and it made her feel like a woman.  Then he
said she had to get an abortion, and Danny understood.  She had to run away
- she didn't want to lose the baby.  She wanted someone to love her, and
she started to dream about a little boy or girl...  she had maybe a hundred
dollars, and on the last day of August she took the St.  Charles car to
Poydras, a few belongings in her backpack, and walked to the station.  She
had to get out of New Orleans 'cause she was scared that he'd look for her
- that he'd take away her baby.



   She took the bus to Biloxi - at least she'd been there before.  She was
wearing her birthday dress and the white pantyhose, sandals.  She had no
idea what she would do, but she had enough money left for maybe a couple
nights in a motel, and it was soothing to see the sea.  The first motel she
tried, walking along the coastal highway towards Gulfport, turned her down
- she was underage, and Danny started to panic.  She went to the beach by
the Treasure Chest, a casino made to look like a pirate chest, and stared
out at the Gulf.  She thought about going home - but she couldn't.  She was
desperate to keep the baby, and she knew that her stepfather would beat her
up if she went back.  She looked for a sleazier motel and finally found
one. The clerk was in his seventies, she guessed, and it was getting late.
The room cost less than forty dollars.  Exhausted, Danny slept - she was
unbelievably lonely, and her hopes began to dim in the dingy room she could
only afford for one more night.  The next day she went to the beach again,
wearing a swimsuit under her dress - her belly was getting big, especially
because she was so skinny, and she was hungry, too.  She swam for a while,
enduring the stares of some middle class family, then crossed the highway
to a hot dog stand and ate.  In the late afternoon she sat by the sea, and
then she strode over to the Treasure Chest.  Danny didn't know how to find
a man, and the idea scared her to the marrow.  What if he hurt her - with
the baby inside?  She still thought she was unattractive, but she'd figured
out that men wanted to fuck her - because she was a kid.  Even pregnant,
she still felt like a little girl - especially when men stared at her ass.
She'd brought the magazine with her - she didn't need it, though.  She'd
memorized every image.  Jane was immature, too - her titties were tiny, and
when she sucked her toes she looked like a little girl.  Did someone take
care of her?  Mr.  Smith's daughter at least had a home...  Danielle
couldn't go in the casino, but there was a video arcade for kids.  She went
in and out of the arcade, trying to catch someone's eye, studying the
people streaming in and out of the main doors.  A couple of men looked at
her - and some guys noticed her belly, too.  Maybe no one would want her
because she was pregnant.  She was about to give up when a man smiled at
her - he was maybe thirty-five, with a five o'clock shadow and curly brown
hair, dressed in jeans and a bright green Izod shirt.  She held her breath
- and the man looked at her over his shoulder.  Danny flashed him a smile,
tense.  It was dusk.  He stopped and lit a cigarette.  The girl shifted her
weight from foot to foot, her forlorn eyes pleading with him.



   Mark Whitman was thirty-six.  He'd been divorced for about two months
and hadn't slept with anyone since his wife left him.  He'd never had sex
with an underage girl, not since he was seventeen and had a
sixteen-year-old girlfriend.  That was almost twenty years ago, and he'd
been married for ten years - for most of that time he was faithful, but
towards the end of the marriage he'd gone to bars and picked up women -
young women.  He was fairly handsome and he had money, and he'd been able
to get a couple of college girls into bed.  One of them, Mary, had a
younger sister.  Her name was Kelly - and Mark lusted after her.  She was
sixteen.  Mary realized that he was into her sister and dropped him - and
Mark realized that he really wanted a high school kid.  He felt guilty
about it at first - but it had become an obsession.  He didn't know how to
go about it, and part of him had no intention of trying to get his hands on
one - it was just a fantasy, and he was content to stare at the baby-sitter
who watched his son and jerk off after his wife went to sleep.  That was
normal, wasn't it?  Most girls dream about young girls, he reasoned,
otherwise the newsstands wouldn't be full of magazines with pictures of
twenty-somethings pretending to be in high school.  Mark started going to
adult bookstores and looking for harder stuff - he didn't find any.  The
Internet was around but hadn't taken off yet, and Mark was stuck with the
fake Lolitas.  The baby-sitter was fifteen.  She wasn't a virgin, either.
Mark got to talking to her - and one night when his wife wasn't home he got
her high and tried to talk her into taking off her clothes.  He wanted to
take Polaroids of her - she freaked out and told Mark's wife.  That was
that, and now he was a horny bachelor with a dangerous obsession and half
the assets he'd had.  The kid in the cotton dress was younger than the
girls in his fantasies - but maybe that was because he was afraid of
himself.  She was drop dead gorgeous, and she looked like she was in
trouble - like she was lost.  He took a drag on his Dunhill and went
towards her, trying to act nonchalant.  She was nervous - and he was
nervous, too.



   "Hi," he said, smiling.  "Your parents in there, huh." He gestured at
the casino.



   "No," the waif whispered.  "I - they're not here." Her bony fingers were
balled into fists.  The man noticed her belly - there were tears in her
eyes.



   "My name's Mark.  Do you live near here?"



   "Danielle," the girl said.  "No - I - I'm staying here." She didn't know
what to say.



   "Wanna walk on the beach or something?"



   She smiled - she had a really sweet smile - and the two of them went to
the water.  He didn't want to scare her off - he didn't touch her - but
after they'd talked about the pirate ship and how pretty the sea was he
suggested wading, taking off his shoes and socks and rolling up his jeans.
He wanted her to take off her pantyhose.  Danny obeyed, shyly, and he
caught a glimpse of her upper thighs, as pale as the moon in the gathering
darkness.  They left their shoes and her undergarment in the sand and
stepped into the water.  They held hands, and after a while he rubbed her
shoulders.  She was almost happy - but she was frightened, too, waiting for
him to make his move.  He asked her how old she was - she told the truth,
because she knew that he could see that she was pregnant and she'd figured
out that men wanted her for her youth - and then he wasn't rubbing her
shoulders anymore, he was caressing her softly, her arms, her back to him.
Danny was already in love, her twat dewy and her daddy hole dilated, moist.
She held her breath and leaned back against him.  They were ankle deep in
the cool water.  The beach was empty.  Mark embraced her and stroked her
belly, whispering - he asked her if she had a boyfriend, and when she said
no he wanted to know who made a baby in her.  He talked to her like she was
a little girl, feeling her distended belly and asking her whether her tummy
hurt.  She whimpered and grabbed his hand, clumsily lifting her dress and
guiding it between her legs.  He couldn't believe how dirty she was.  Her
bony pubis was sandpapery with stubble, protuberant.  The opening was
sopping wet.  Mark slid his middle finger inside, masturbating her.  He
said he wanted to fuck his little girl - he wanted to stick his cock in her
cunny hole.  Danny came, whimpering.



   He drove her back to the city.  He was nervous about being seen with
her, and for the two hours it took to reach his rented house in Riverbend -
he'd lost his previous home to his wife - he made her tell him about her
little life.  She cried a lot, describing how it felt when her daddy fucked
her.  She didn't tell him about the dog, but Mark got her to say that she'd
acted like a slut around her stepfather.  She'd walked around in her
underwear to get him to spank her, and her slit would get wet.  She was a
whore, and he made her say so several times - sobbing, Danny started saying
things she'd read in the magazine, and by the time they reached his house
he was ready to explode.  The kid was crying - he led her inside and locked
the door, ordering her to undress.  Naked, Danny knelt in front of him and
undid his fly - Mark extracted his straining cock and came almost as soon
as it touched her lips.  He stayed hard, stripping, and dragged her to the
bedroom.  His penis was sort of small, less than six inches long and
slender.  Danny was passive until he put her on top and cupped her
buttocks, telling her to stick it in her ass.  Trembling, she put it in her
poophole.  Mark played with her nipples and the girl began to ride him,
slowly at first, so skinny except for her swollen belly, her pussy leaking
come.  He kept calling her a whore, and the kid went crazy, keening and
bucking like a wounded goat, coming, taking his entire cock.  He put her on
her back and fucked her butt for half an hour, then forced her to suck it.
Danny was almost unconscious when he carried her to the bathroom and put
her in the tub.  She was scared that he'd wash her and throw her out like
the man in the Meridian, but Mark made her suck it some more.  Danny
thought it was semen at first.  He screamed at her to swallow it, pissing
in her pitiful face and open mouth.  She choked and spat, stunned, urine
stinging her eyes and soaking her hair.  He hissed at her to suck it,
stiffening, took her by the hair and slid it in and out of her pissy mouth.
It took him a long time to come.  Danny was a rag doll by the time he
ejaculated.  Mark ran a bath and climbed in with her, content.



   She'd never spent the night with a man.  He whispered sweet things to
her, then raped her again - her rectum, coming in her colon and finally
falling asleep.  She thought about running away, but he hadn't given her
any money and she had nowhere to go - and even if he'd done those things,
it was nice to be with someone.  He was warm, and the bed was big and soft.
She slept, and suddenly it was morning.  She woke up when he put it in her
pussy - the hole was sore, and he slammed her.  She felt only pain until he
flooded her with semen.  The warm fluid soothed her - and he kissed her,
admiring her in the hazy light that came from the French windows.  Mark
felt sorry for hurting her, but she wasn't really human to him.  He slid
out and got up to make coffee - and Danny followed him.



   "I can make breakfast," she said in a shaky voice.  He couldn't believe
his ears.  The girl cooked eggs and bacon while he brewed coffee,
disappearing to find her dress.  She'd never been naked around a man except
when she was having sex.  She served him, uncertain of whether he'd kick
her out, queasy.  Mark called into work and ate.  Danny ate, too, trying to
pace herself.  She knew that she had to eat if she wanted a healthy baby.
He ran his fingers through her hair.  "Can I - stay here?" Mark stared at
her.  "Please?"



   "Sure," he said.  Danny slid to the floor and ran her hand along his
hairy leg.  It was like her dream - he pushed his chair back, and the
child-woman crept between his big strong thighs.  He groaned as she took
him into her dripping mouth.  They - and later her baby girl - lived
happily ever after.



   ================================

   This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

   ===============================

   Wish to read more texts of this writer? To load archive, pass to a file
0SilvioStoker.htm in the same catalogue. Or on my homepage Sergdriver
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Sergdriver/www/index.htm
=================================